Tramp
by spongecake 2
Summary: Improvised story about Paul, everyone's favourite penniless loser.
1. Chapter 1

**Tramp**

**By spongecake2**

**I've had a ****terrible idea whic I'm sure I'll regret****. I'll write a story from Paul's POV and see where it goes. It's weird. Paul's one of my favourite Tekken characters yet I haven't really done that much based on him... not surprising, really. He has all the personality of a gnat, other than the whole "I PWN LOL XD" thing. It's actually been yonks since I played a Tekken game, so this is bound to be shit... like everything I do. It's solely to practise fight scenes. I didn't quite think it would be multi-chaptered, but I eventually decided it should be. There aren't a lot of multi-chaptered Paul fics out there. Read and review anyway.**

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The alarm burst into life, forcing me to pull my way out of my comatose. I looked to the clock. Eight sixteen. I decided to start the day with.... a nap.

It was about four hours before I woke up again. The light poured into my flat, showing the scattered bits of rubbish everywhere. The yellow dawn bled through the lightly coloured curtains, creating a golden shroud upon all things to see. First thing I thought of. Fridge. I walked over to it. The fridge's door fell off. Last thing I expected to happen. Though I expected it that if it did fall, it would land on my foot, and cause a great deal of pain.

Oh, not even bad things fail to disappoint me.

The clang clash of the door smashing to the floor was very little to the noise I caused with my painful screams, which was followed by the louder complaints of people downstairs. I slowly pulled myself back up, ate... whatever it was, it wasn't good enough to remember. Then I proceeded to the hallway. I decided to simply make comments at other fighters. They sneered, but they had it easy compared to me. At least they weren't tramps scraping for food.

_Oh, shit, it's Bryan. _I thought, looking at the psycho leaning against the wall, punching any passers-by. I gulped and tried to sneak past before he noticed.

"Good morning, Master Phoenix. And isn't it a beautiful morning?" He said, imitating charm perfectly and tipping his baseball cap. I turned to him.

"Pardon?" I asked the psycho. I did think he had completely lost it... again.

"Just commenting upon the fine weather, my good sir." Bryan said, his voice chipper and fresh. "Would you like to observe it better?" He said, grabbing my collar.

"NO, BRYAN, YOU BASTARD!" I shouted. Too late. Flung through the window, I was. The pain jolted through my body as I hit the hard floor. I could only thank myself he was on the first storey, though it still hurt like hell. I rolled over to see a mop of blonde hair. Steve Fox raised his head.

"Bryan?" He asked. I nodded. "He's done that four times today."

"He carries on that way, he might as well go to the last round. He'll have crippled everyone." I replied. Steve nodded in chorus. I pushed myself up. I looked to Steve.

"You getting up?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"Can't." He said. "Bryan broke my leg."

"Oh, right, ok then." I said, walking away. Steve looked worried.

"Errrmmm... help?" He asked. I didn't 'notice'...

Anyway, I decided it would be best to go for a walk. Get my back back into... wait... get my _spine _back into shape. As I slowly wandered my way across the patio of the garden, people pointed and muttered.

"Tramp."

"Hobo."

"Piece of junk."

Well, I certainly dealt with them using my fists, but it made me think about why people generally tended to hate me. Sure, I'm not the nicest person in the world, but still... not many people _are_ very nice. They weren't. For example, look at that Korean prick... What's his name again? Hoo-ran? Ho-ah-ang? Boomerang? Whatever, he's still a complete bastard, and look at him. Girls literally fall at his feet at the drop of a hat, and everyone who knows him treats him to respect...

... I suppose you don't give respect to a tramp.

Of course, people would say that, but what's the Korean? Homeless, smelly, nasty... sounds a lot like my position. I remember saying this to that Arizona girl. Shit, I regretted that. _No, no. He's got good reason to be. He lost his parents, at the bottom of the social ladder, nowhere to go at night whine whine whine help forests whine whine my love of trees is bordering on a fetish..._

That's no reason to be a complete arsehole. Nobody asks about _my_ parents, if I had any. At least Whore-wang knew _his_ parents for a few years, and he has somewhere to go. A girl's bed, mostly, but more than I get. As for the social ladder thing, it doesn't get higher than an Iron Fist fighter...

... or lower than a tramp.

It was then I realised I didn't actually know where the hell I was. Well, they could put up one flimsy sign. Nope, that would be too _helpful _for me to cope with.

"This is just great." I said while biting my lip, which I found to be very difficult. I decided to use my time well.

I scratched my balls for most of that hour.

I turned around to see a large tree. I smiled. At least there was something to let my frustration out on. "Die, pointless obstacle!" I shouted, smashing my right fist into the tree. Down it came. "Aren't I awesome?" I shouted to myself more than anyone else. Then something heavy landed on me. The shock more than the weight was the thing that caused me to collapse. The grit dug into my hand as I broke the fall.

"Watch where you're falling!" I shouted to the lump. I recognised the touch of skin, and knew it was human. The person got off me. A snarling, Oriental girl, her auburn hair flowing through the wind, looking up to me despite being... what, half my size? Maybe a bit more. She shouted at me in Japanese, or in Double Dutch, or whatever it was. All I could tell was it was _very_ angry.

"What?" I asked her, politely, mind you. She didn't account for the fact that we spoke entirely different languages and just carried on with her ranting and raving. After what seemed an hour, she finally finished. She looked expectant. She then sighed.

"English?" She asked, though the accent sounded very stupid.

"American, but yeah." I said, then realised it didn't make sense. She sighed, saying more Japanese to herself. I guessed it was swearing, but for all I knew, she may have been commenting on how sexy I was...

... ok, probably not. But anyway, that's irrelevant. Her stupid accent and awful English brought me back to reality.

"Do you always... smash every tree you look?" She said. I shook my head.

"It's 'see'. _Look_ is to tell somebody to notice something. _See _is the verb as itself." I explained. However, my intellect didn't aid the girl's temper. She slipped into her fighting stance smoothly. I sighed. "No." I said, turning away. "I don't fight girls. It'd look too kinky." I started to walk away, then a grab on my throat.

"I like kinky." The girl growled, before throwing me over her back. Ooh, that hurt a lot. I got up as fast as I could.

"Let's get it on!" I shouted, before sending my fist towards her. I thought she was just some bird watcher who happened to have anger issues. I clearly was mistaken. My fist went swirling past her head, as she stepped to the side and smashed her fist into my rib cage. This girl knew her stuff. I sent my left foot into her shin, and she buckled.

Now I have her. Follow it up. Elbow. Left. Right. I looked to the girl splayed across the floor.

"Yeah, I rock." I thought to myself. As I turned away to go on my way, I felt the cold feeling of mud on the back of my neck. I looked to the girl. "Now look here..." I started as another pelt of mud sent its way into my face. I wiped it off to see the girl rearm herself with another globule of mud from a large pile. Then I thought to myself. Piles of mud don't happen in nature. I sniffed the brown stuff on my hand. It was rank with the odour of...

...horse shit.

I managed to evade the next glob of the murky mixture as it wheeled past my head. I smiled as it was flung across the clearing and into some unsuspecting squirrel. I turned back to be tackled by the girl. She didn't take me to the ground, though it took my footing away, and my feet scraped across the floor as they found the grip they needed to remain upright. I brought my fist down on her back.

"AH!" She screamed in a horrible pain and as I pushed her back into the pile of manure. She pulled herself up while sending hideous globule after globule. Miss, miss, hit, hit, hit, miss, hit. She brought her body weight into me again, and this time I didn't maintain my footing. Her incoherent Japanese curses were accompanied by her red fists, which brought themselves onto my face. I popped my body up and slipped my leg under hers. And... over we go! Her face was sent through the air and into the pile of crap.

"STOP!" She begged as I brought my own fists onto her now trapped head. She gave me no mercy, I insisted on returning the favour. Then I felt a horrible pain in my crotch. She kneed me in the genitals. Ok, I can fight dirty, but I have restraints. That crosses a line. I stood up in pain, and used my time to observe my adversary as she pulled herself up. Her face bruised, her hair messed, and everything was muddy. I looked at myself in the reflection of her eyes. I was no better. Covered in blood and crap. This stuff got everywhere, it seemed.

_I'll need a shower. _I thought to myself. Then I looked back to the girl. She brought yet another fist towards me, but I trapped the attack, and flipped her across my body. She tried to get up once more, but finally gave in. I smiled, walking away with yet another victory. The tournament hasn't even started, and I'm on a roll already. Whoever's running the Zaibatsu now... he won't have a chance.

I tried not to regret beating her up. She started it. Simple laws of thermodynamics. Hit somebody, they'll hit back. People tell me thermodynamics is a lot more to do with heat energy being converted into other forms of energy and a lot less to do with fighting, but I get very bored very quickly when it comes to science. However, things like that didn't just _go away_. I'd probably end up feeling guilty for weeks. I delved deeper and deeper into the forest. It was clearly the wrong way, but at least I was going somewhere, which is a lot better than nowhere.

I finally found the edge of the forest. The sight was as uplifting as an oasis to a stranded traveller within the savannah. I looked around. The view was awe inspiring. The hilly plains of Honshu stretched out for miles, the sun gleaming off the rolling grass as the wind blew its impatient way through the spindly vegetation, causing ripples crossing the land. Nobody for miles...

A good place to take a leak.

I walked over to a nearby tree. My hand reached for my fly when, of all things, a pencil hit the top of my head. I looked up. Somebody was on the highest branch, and had dropped their pencil. I picked the wooden spike up and threw it skywards. I turned around and decided to find another place to pee when a thud followed by a flurry of paper sounded behind me. I turned and looked at the sprawled mess. I couldn't recognise the figure, but the very little amount of clothes gave me a good guess.

"Christie? Does everybody seem to hang around up trees today?" I asked myself. The Brazilian turned to me, scowling very harshly.

"You idiot, Paul!" She seethed. "That pencil snapped the branch I was sitting on." I looked up to the branch. It was very thick. Something told me something must have snapped it good.

"Must've been a good throw." I commented. "Have you put on weight?" I asked her. She didn't like that a great deal, by the sounds of it. She picked up a batch of crayons and threw them all at me. Clearly I wasn't that good at avoiding fights. I slipped into my fighting stance. "Not again." I muttered.

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**Yeah, I don't quite know where this is all going... somewhere, I hope. Also, for those who've read Stockholm Syndrome, I've finally got those pictures of Liz and Fritz up on the internet, with links in my profile. Though Benni didn't come out well at all, so I'll get him up later. Frankly, though, I'm not particularly bothered about drawing the others. I just can't get them at all. So, homework... draw your pictures of Mr Drive, Takeshi and Bill, and send me links. I'm too lazy to do the others. Oh, and also, to those who read my first fic, Exodus, I've got a drawing of Morris up too, because I did (god, when did I write **_**that **_**pile of jargon?)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Somehow I've decided there's going to be a very dark and evil storyline for some reason or another. Not sure where it's going to go, but hey ho, that's what improvisation is all about. Enjoy! Read and review.**

**This chapter is dedicated to my grandfather, who's just died today. Aged 78. A great man.**

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"_Must've been a good throw." I commented. "Have you put on weight?" I asked her. She didn't like that a great deal, by the sounds of it. She picked up a batch of crayons and threw them all at me. Clearly I wasn't that good at avoiding fights. I slipped into my fighting stance. "Not again." I muttered._

My foot pounded upon the ground, ready to stand its ground against the next assault. A sting flowed across the leg. I seethed. It was sore from that earlier fight. I looked upon the body of Christie, my new opponent. Other than ogling her chasm for a cleavage, I observed that her body had adapted to her fighting style. It was designed for speed, not strength. To react to a strike rather than bring it. I decided to play defensive. However, I didn't account for the fact that she had another crayon, which found its head into my head. It didn't drop. It stayed there.

"AAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!" I screamed, the torturous throbbing in my forehead being too much to bear, pulsating and pounding its agonizing way into my cranium. I pulled out the crayon with one almighty pull to see Christie's leg whip around to strike my bleeding forehead. I was flung across the battlefield, landing on the edge of a small ledge, the drop not sheer enough to kill, but enough to hurt... a lot. Christie laughed.

"Some 'greatest' fighter on Earth!" She said as she walked over to finish the fight. I wasn't ready to lose, however. I would give it my all. I looked behind me. The drop was steep, and long, but not quite vertical. If I could somehow force Christie onto the edge of that ledge and down it, maybe she might not have enough mobility to attack properly. I waited until she was above me, and then I struck. I took my leg and coiled it around hers. She looked down as I pulled myself close and then rolled onto my back. She tumbled over me and down the ledge. I smiled, happy to get rid of another foe. Then I remembered that I was still holding onto her.

"Oh bollocks." I said quietly as I felt myself go over the edge. Her fall looked painful, scraping along the face of the fall, but she managed to balance herself for the most painless fall, and landed perfectly safe. I was flung through the air and spent ten agonisingly worrying seconds airborne for giving into gravity and then I smashed into the ground on my back, which was stupendously tender already from the falls I had suffered before, so this did not help. However, I wasn't ready to give up just yet, as I began to pull myself up. Christie tried to get into her fighting stance, but scowled and winced in pain. I looked to her thighs. They were bleeding and raw. I smiled. Her mobility would be compromised, and her greatest asset had been removed. I jumped onto my legs, the pain forgotten as I decided to close for the finishing climax of this short fight.

"I'll beat you, you bastard!" Christie shouted, throwing her fists towards me. However, Capoeira is not a martial art in support of the fists. They bounced off me like raindrops on a sheet of metal as she threw one after the other. I wondered whether to make this painful for her or painless and simple. I considered the options.

_Nah. _I thought. _She doesn't deserve to get hurt that much... _However, something changed my mind.

She stabbed me with a crayon.

"You..." I looked for the right words. Nothing fitted her. Bitch, whore, cow... none of those insults fitted the bill. It was too much. I just went with my gut feeling. "... you!" Stupid, but... yeah. My fist wheeled around my chest, smashing into her as it stopped. She hit the ground unconscious. I smiled. "Score two for Phoenix." I muttered. Then I decided I had to get to a hospital, but...

I looked around. Nothing. No form of civilisation in sight. And I still needed a piss. I decided to make a list of pros and cons about the situation:

**List of Pros and Cons:**

**Don't know where I am.**

**Got into two fights, both of them with girls.**

**Beaten up badly.**

**Knocked a girl out.**

**Just been stabbed.**

**Back's nearly been broken... **_**twice.**_

**Coated in shit.**

**Need to go to the toilet.**

Well, surprise, surprise, not a single pro on there. Ok, things didn't look great on paper. Or indeed anywhere. I decided that there was only one thing to do.

"Fuck." I said. Simple solution. Then I remembered something. Hopefully my mobile hadn't been broken. I could phone Marshall up for a lift. I pulled the phone out of my pocket. It was shattered, either from the fall or simply to make things worse. I bit my lip. I looked to Christie. Well, I couldn't just leave her here. I picked her up. I knew it. She _has _put on weight. My back buckled under the strain.

_Right, _I thought. _Time to get home. _I couldn't decide which way to go. The sensible option would be back the way I came, but that Japanese chick wasn't completely out, and would've gotten up by now, and she looked pissed when I left.

_In fact, she might be on her way to even the score._ With that scary thought in my head, I decided the best way to go would be through the fields. The sun shone brilliantly in the sky, forcing its heat upon all things of this earth to bear, as it its own arms were forcing the blanket of heat upon the planet. Of course, without a cloud in the sky, I was blinded, boiling and bruised. Oh, and carrying a beaten up fat girl who'll attack me when she wakes up, and I might be pursued by another pissed off girl. Things did not look good. I decided upon the idea of holding Christie on my shoulders. At least she'd serve as a sunshade.

_Paul..._

I looked around, but nobody was there. I checked Christie. Out cold, still. Great, now I'm having delusions. Maybe this is what it was like in the desert. The heat clung to me like a scarf.

_Paul..._

"Ok, if anyone _is_ there, you're really pissing me off." I snarled. I looked forward. No more fields. No more clicking sounds of crickets but... applause. I looked around. A stadium, filled with flashing lights of cameras. The roar of an invisible crowd, obscured by the open night sky which hung above the stadium like a black tapestry of stars. I looked in front of me. A tall man with a microphone walked over, looking very pleased. He greased back black hair shone in the spotlight. He was lanky and dressed pristinely.

"Here we have him..." He shouted. "... the greatest fighter in the universe..." His enthusiasm echoed through his voice. "... the only man ever to shag three hot chicks, fight off a legion of zombies and play a killer guitar solo all at once and the son of Thor! The one..." Wait, did I ever do any of those things? "... the only..." Is this a mirage? "... PAUL PHOENIX!" I smiled for the cameras on instinct. I felt a lot happier than I ever had been in a long time. I knew it wasn't real, but it was happy. Reality is always very painful and frantic.

_Like a cat tied to a stick._

The dreams sounded so nice. Maybe I could just stay here forever. Away from all the insults that are flung in my way.

_Tramp. Hobo. Piece of junk._

No more of that. Oh no. I would just stay here, going mad in my own world. In reality, I may be taken into a mental institution, but I wouldn't mind. I would be kept alive.

_Like a pig in a cage on antibiotics._

"So, Lord Phoenix." The man said. "How does it feel to be you?" I didn't know who he was talking to. The real me, or the me in my head. I decided to answer as the real me.

"Like shit." I said. "I'm delusional, hot, tired and I need a wee." All the noise stopped, and everyone other than the narrator wore a disappointed expression, as if they knew would say that. They went into grey and were completely still. It was like something out of a nightmare. The man with the microphone remained full of colour, his pleasant grin still holding.

"Well, that's what you had thought you said, Paul." I could hear a hint of menace as he said this. "And of course, you're right, you are delusional, hot, tired. You don't need a wee." He said calmly. He pointed to my crotch. "Not anymore, at least." Then my trousers slowly blackened around there. I got a horribly warm feeling down there too. "And also, that might be what you thought you said, but you didn't say it." His pleasurable, if sinister, smile turned into a downright evil grin. "You said..." He cleared his throat.

"Swell, Mike, just well." My voice said, but it wasn't my mouth moving, but his. Then the colour came back to everyone, as they all smiled and cheered again. Mike's smile returned to normal.

"And I'm glad to hear it!" Mike said.

"So Mike is your name?" I asked him.

"No." Mike said. "You just think it is." Then I recognised his voice. He was the one saying my name before.

"What's going on?" I asked him. Mike waggled his finger as a game show host would.

"Ah ah ah..." He said, his smile starting to creep me out. "Not knowing is all part of the game." He said. "And now!" He turned to the audience. "Paul's opponent!" He smiled at me, winking evilly. "A giant walking toilet!"

"You have to be kidding me." I murmured. Maybe I had gone mad. I looked up. There it was. A huge, white toilet bowl, the seat flipping up and down when it roared.

"Paul!" It shouted at me. I recognised the voice.

"Christie?" I slurred. And then...

I woke up.

My eyes opened apart to look to the sky above me. I can't have been asleep for long, but long enough to give Christie ample time to recover from her comatose.

"Yeah?" I asked her. She looked annoyed.

"The zombie awakens." She scowled. I pulled myself up. Now I smelt worse than ever, what with wetting myself along with the sweat, blood and crap on my jacket.

"I called Eddy." Christie said, holding her mobile phone. "Lucky you didn't break that." Finally, I thought, I was going to go home. However, something told me Eddy coming was not necessarily going to be a good thing. Christie bent down. "You're going to have _so_ much fun when he arrives." She spat, her voice tipped with spite.

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**And there we go. A little shorter than the last chapter, but should be enough to advance the plot into the spiral that it will become. Still, that's the way the cookie crumbles.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: ****I'm Doctor Rrrrobotnik! I say what I want! I say pingas! I say pushy! I say butt! I say crrrud and sludge! I say n-----**

**Anyway, this chapter makes as much sense as that disclaimer. It makes NO SENSE WHATSOEVER! Like, at all. It's also the last chapter. More than half a year without an update should say that this fic is, like… totally dead, man. Totally dead. Anyway, I'm going to be concentrating on other stuff, mainly my novel, my script and Exodus.**

**cough cough somebody read it. cough cough**

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_Finally, I thought, I was going to go home. However, something told me Eddy coming was not necessarily going to be a good thing. Christie bent down. "You're going to have so much fun when he arrives." She spat, her voice tipped with spite._

Three hours. Three _agonising _hours. That's how long it took for Eddy to get here. I could've done anything. Run away, hide in a tree, anything, but my legs wouldn't budge. They were rooted to the spot by anxiety. Blood pumped around my head like the impending pounding I'd get of Eddy. I spent those three hours preparing myself, thinking of what to say, taking deep breaths... though, I suppose, taking deep breaths was the worst idea ever now that I had wet myself, and already smelt of shit anyway. Then I spotted the flash of Eddy's green t-shirt, his ebony skin and his scowling face as he approached. I wet myself all over again.

"Hello Eddy." I said pleasantly. He didn't stop coming. "Now, Eddy my friend, you may have heard that I got into a..." Then Eddy punched me. Capoeira wasn't a martial art suited to the fists, but it still hurt like hell when he punched me. I suppose he didn't spend all his time in prison watching TV. I recovered and carried on.

"... fight with Christie. Now it is very easy to..." Another punch. Recover. Continue.

"... accept one side of the story. However, she was the one..." Another punch. Recover. Continue.

"... who started the fight. Also, I think that..." Another punch. This whole 'Recover and Continue' method is going to get me killed before the end of the day.

"... we can solve this problem like civilised..." Another punch. Stay on the floor. Continue.

"... people with no...." Kick to the groin. Roll in pain. Continue.

"... need to resort to violence. Look, will you please stop hitting me?" Kick to the ribs. Eddy picked me up, plucking me off the floor and onto my feet, which nearly buckled.

"If you're going to try and squirm your way outta this, at least have the decency to stand up." Eddy growled. Then my knees decided that it would be a good time to give way, and sent back down to the floor. Things were not going well. Eddy towered over me as he lifted his foot into the sky. It blotted out the sun high above me. I closed my eyes and prepared for the final blow.

_Paul._

For an instant, I completely forgot about Eddy. I turned to where Mike's voice had come from. Eddy's foot met my face. The pain seared through my head, but something told me to fight on. I forced the foot off. Eddy staggered back, regaining his balance. I slipped into my stance. The bell rung, echoing across the fields, as the crowd cheered on...

Wait, bell? Crowd? _Shit,_ I thought. _Not another one._ I could only thank that Eddy was still there. He sent his legs whipping towards me. The first two strikes hit me, but I blocked the third, and countered with an uppercut. Eddy was thrown back...

... or his tentacle was. That's right. Eddy had grown tentacles. Big ones, with a horrible stench and for some reason were fluorescent pink. I don't know how this corresponded to what was actually happening in the real world.

"What do you think, Paul?" Came Mike's voice from behind me, the greasy hair gleaming as much as his teeth. Speaking of which, his smile was no less creepy, and his eyes gleamed like rubies. The look made me wonder if his mere piss was pure malevolence.

"What is it?" I asked him quietly.

"Not real, for a start, but I still think it's cool." Mike said. "A little something I made for the crowd, they simply love it." I looked to Eddy as he approached, his two tentacles whipping out threateningly. I readied myself for the oncoming onslaught. I noticed the clapping had stopped being applause, and began to simply chant the same rhythm, over and over and over.

_Clap. Clap clap clap, clap. Clap clap clap, clap. Clap clap clap, clap._

Daunting, adding to the fear chilling my blood as I got into my fighting stance. Eddy towered over me, his shadow preventing the sun from reaching me, the ground under my feet going cold under the black blanket. I decided that I had to simply dodge the first move he made, and take advantage.

"Mars attack!" Eddy shouted to himself as he flipped his body over. I side stepped the first strike, and punch into his airborne side as he was through the second flip. However, it turned out all I hit was his now doubly sized thigh. It was enough to knock him back, but his tentacles held him up. I decided to use this chance to say something to annoy Eddy. Annoying him might work.

"You really shouldn't shout what attack you're about to perform before you do it." I told him. "Gives it away." The reply wasn't some angry response. It was a tentacle smash. The huge pink lump brought itself on top of me, digging its suckers into my back. The pain was intolerable, as the tentacle forced itself onto me. Then one of the suckers seemed to open and breathe in. I forced my hand in the crevasse, pushing the tentacle off me slightly. It was too heavy to throw away, so I simply dropped it. It was weird. It felt like a...

_Like a boulder..._

I chanced a look to the sky. I saw Christie's face in a star formation. Her face was cringing in anger. So that was it. The tentacles were simply any obstacle around, so Christie must've chucked a boulder at me. I looked to Mike, who was applauding me, while gesturing to Eddy. I looked to Eddy. He was preparing to do his most powerful attack, the Fruit Picker. The size he was, it could probably knock me into the middle of next week, possibly around about lunch, with expectations of mild precipitation.

"Not today." I muttered, rolling around him as he threw himself into the air. His slashing legs threw themselves in a spiral above me, but I simply lay low as he flew above, deciding to kick up twice. The first leg missed, but the second hit met its target, forcing Eddy to surrender to gravity. Considering I was underneath him, I regretted it. He brought his knee straight into my face, and seeing as his foot was now the size of a bus, I won't deny that it killed. I pushed the knee of my face, deciding it was a boulder, or just something very large, like a paddling pool full of cakes.

"You've got no chance, Paul!" Came Eddy's voice. I looked up to him, as he was … on top of a Godzilla-sized Christie. I looked down to Christie's legs, which had been replaced with candy cane. In fact, the entire ground was now a string of liquorice. Well, this seemed perfectly reasonable.

I leapt into action, running behind a tree, curling up into a ball and crying like a child. I _really_ wasn't having a good day, so I think I was entitled to some whimpering. I heard an earth-quaking rip as the tree was uprooted by Christie-Kong. I looked to the candy canes.

"Surely they can't be that hard to knock over?" I muttered, before quite idiotically bull charging them. They gave way and Christie, to my utter relief, fell. Then I realised where she would land, and I'm quite sure whatever I had for breakfast had finally emerged into my already sodden, smelly trousers.

I found out that being crushed by a giant cleavage is a mightily overrated experience. Sure, there are big breasts, can't complain with that, though it's very hard to notice when you're dying of asphyxiation. I looked up to see Mike, who was yawning in a rather bored fashion.

"So disappointing, Paul." He said. He looked up. "However, I suppose the ambulance people I called will get you out." To this, I was grateful but confused.

"I thought you were an entity of my broken mind as stress overrides its ability to distinguish reality from hallucination." I said.

"Eh. Go figure."

* * *

Well, as it turned out, the ambulance was there to rescue me. Apparently, I had in fact kicked Eddy's and Christie's collective asses. Though it's natural, what with me being amazing and all, and strong, and swift, and intelligent, and sexy, and clean, and super, and a biker, and American, and kind, and cute, and a kitten, and a ninja, and Winston Churchill… and I once had a dream that I was Batman, so maybe I've got a little Bruce Wayne thrown in for good measure.

* * *

I was in my room, on the internet waaaaaaaaaaaa-checking my bank account, when, of all people, Mike showed up.

"Paul, get off there." He sighed as I closed the window very _**VERY**_ quickly.

"Who the hell are you, anyway?!" I shouted. Mike shook his head.

"I thought you would have learnt your lesson after today, what with being crushed by Christie!" He said irritably.

"Which was?!" I asked him.

"Brush your teeth." He said without a hint of irony. "Did you smell her breath? It's worse than Sugary McSugarson's!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" I said. "So all of this, all the trips and all the shit that's been happening to me today, has been just to tell me to brush my teeth?"

There was a long pause.

"Yeah." Mike finally answered. I blinked. That wasn't quite what I expected.

"What are you, my conscience or something?"

"Yes." Again, without even looking like he was joking. I considered answering, but it's very difficult to come up with an appropriate reaction to that. I just settled with slapping him. He slapped me back. I decided to stop, seeing as he had hit me really hard. I forced back a tear, convincing myself that an awesome guy like me shouldn't cry.

"So, what do you really look like?" I asked him, rubbing my raw cheek. He looked reluctant to tell.

"To be honest…" He began. " – I look like everyone's mother."

"Yeah, I should've guessed." I said.

"Oh yeah, I also came to tell you that somebody's going to smash through your door." He said. And, with that, he faded away. I looked to the door. And, to be honest, he was right. But what I saw was something I'd like to forget.

"I've been going through Xiaoyu's wardrobe..." Bryan said, holding a clipboard towards me. "- and I've been asking around if this is a good look for me." I took the pen he held, if only to jab my eyes out. A school uniform, complete with oversized blue bow, mini skirt, knee high socks and high heels. I nearly vomited there and then. I looked to the questionnaire he had given me. Not one of the myriad of marks was on the 'I think the look is great' while the 'I will never look at another man again' side was abundant. I considered my answer, but then looked out the window. Typical really, that there were a lot of people outside on the floor, rolling and screaming in pain. I considered the pain, and weighed it up with the fact that Bryan may actually take this answer to heart.

"Screw it; I've had enough of people breaking my bones today." I said, and, in a chipper manner, ticked the 'I think the look is great', and handed it back to Bryan, who looked around awkwardly.

"Ah…" He murmured. "Ermm… I really was expecting to throw you out of a window…" He said. I nodded back.

"Yeah, I guessed you would if I said no." Bryan nodded.

"Uh huh, I guessed that…" He replied awkwardly. We looked around the room. "You didn't mean it, though, did you?" He asked.

"Oh, hell no, I wish somebody would strike me blind." I answered.

"Yeah, of course, it's just that it'd be awkward if, you know…"

"No, no, it's alright."

"Not that's anything wrong with it, but…"

"No, of course not, no."

We looked around, avoiding eye contact as much as we could.

"So, yeah… bye." He said, leaving.

"Yeah." I said. I made sure he had left, and I had a cold shower to wash away the horrible, horrible sight that was now jammed into my brain.

**The End**


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